


You're Messing With The Enemy

by evieoh, stargazerdaisy



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No SHIELD (Marvel), Banter, Enemies to Lovers adjacent, F/M, Skye works for the CIA, Snark, UST, inspired by Alias, spy vs spy - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:54:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24155437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evieoh/pseuds/evieoh, https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargazerdaisy/pseuds/stargazerdaisy
Summary: The leather corset she is squeezed into is causing her usually modest cleavage to spill out to the point where she’s a little afraid of exposing her nipples if she takes too deep a breath, and the heat from so many bodies packed into the club combined with the leather she’s wearing is making her scalp sweat under her short wig and her heavy eye make-up run. (At least the raccoon-eyed look seems to be what a fair amount of her fellow club attendees have gone for intentionally, so she fits in.)But all of that might be worth it for the sight of Grant Ward in guyliner.
Relationships: Skye | Daisy Johnson/Grant Ward
Comments: 19
Kudos: 69





	You're Messing With The Enemy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pia_Bartolini](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pia_Bartolini/gifts).



> Happy Birthday Pia!!! 
> 
> This is an idea we've been bouncing around for awhile, but you inspired us to buckle down and finish it. We dedicate it to you! You are amazing and wonderful and have been such a lovely support to both of us, as a reader and a friend. We know your year has been pretty rough, so here's to a new year full of joy and love and your ships getting together in every which way. :D
> 
> Love you muchly!  
> <3 Daisy and Evie
> 
> (title from 'Clubfoot' by Kasabian, which evie strongly recommends listening to while you read this)

The leather corset she is squeezed into is causing her usually modest cleavage to spill out to the point where she’s a little afraid of exposing her nipples if she takes too deep a breath, and the heat from so many bodies packed into the club combined with the leather she’s wearing is making her scalp sweat under her short wig and her heavy eye make-up run. (At least the raccoon-eyed look seems to be what a fair amount of her fellow club attendees have gone for intentionally, so she fits in.) 

But all of that might be worth it for the sight of Grant Ward in guyliner. 

The leather jacket and the scruff along his jaw just add to the look. She’s half tempted to whip out her phone and snap a picture of the enemy agent, mission be damned. But there would be hell to pay if she screwed this up, so she smothers the urge and turns her attention back to her mark instead.

Leaning closer, she laughs coyly at something the man she is currently draped all over says while peering across the bar at Ward through the cover of her hair. He’s watching her, but he doesn’t look as irritated that she is clearly a step ahead of him with Haas as she might have hoped. Instead she’d swear he almost looks amused at the sight of her flirting and simpering at the owner of the club they’re currently in. Well, nightclub owner and black market weapons importer. Skye is there because they picked up chatter about a new weapon Haas’ colleagues are designing. The specs are supposed to be on a disk in his private office in the club, and Skye needs Haas to gain access.

Shifting even closer to him on the soft leather bench of the booth, Skye deliberately pushes her breasts against Haas’ arm, managing to resist the urge to roll her eyes at how easily that manages to capture his full attention. Running her hand over his chest, she feigns interest in the clearly heavily fictionalized account of his recent meeting with some Hollywood starlet, waiting for the chip in her oversized costume ring that Fitz rigged up for her to finish cloning the cellphone in his jacket pocket.

Skye leans in close to be heard over the music, her lips grazing the shell of his ear as she trails her fingers along his thigh enticingly. She’s laying it on a little thick, but if Ward is here she has to push up her planned timeline. She needs to get into that safe and get out of here before he has a chance to get to it. When she glances over Haas’ shoulder to check the bar for Ward again, he has disappeared. Trying not to let her tension become noticeable with her body pressed up against Haas, Skye tries to scan the club for his irritating presence. Nothing. _Dammit,_ the bastard has already made his move.

Thinking fast, she reevaluates her options while she nods absentmindedly at something Haas murmurs in her ear. If Ward is already heading for the safe that must mean he has a way of getting into it without Haas. If she goes through with her original plan she might just be inviting unnecessary complications. She could ditch him and go for it on her own, hope to get the drop on Ward and snatch the disk. She doesn’t know what her chances are of taking him in an even fight though. And maybe he doesn’t have a way into the safe, maybe he’s waiting on her to call his bluff.

 _Screw it_ , Skye thinks. She’s just gonna stick to the original plan. Sliding her fingers through Haas’ hair, she leans in close and captures his lips with her own, tugging his lower lip between her teeth as she pulls away. Aiming for her most seductive tone, she slides her lips along his jaw and murmurs in his ear again, “Have you got somewhere private we can go?”

Haas nods, his eyes looking a little glazed, but Skye isn’t sure if that has anything to do with lust for her or if it’s just the lines of coke he was doing when she first joined him in the club’s VIP section. She grazes her hand along his inner thigh promisingly again, smirking when he gets to his feet almost immediately, holding his hand out for her to take.

The music is even louder as they approach the dancefloor, Skye can feel the heavy bass throbbing through her bones. They skirt the edge of the gyrating sea of bodies, a frenetic energy seeming to move through the dancers as they throw their bodies into the beat violently. Skye almost longs for that kind of release. Everything in her is so tightly wound and she cannot remember the last time she was able to truly let go. The missions, one after another, never seems to end. She can remember, before she was recruited by the CIA, practically living on dancefloors like this one. Even a year ago, she didn’t feel quite so much like the weight of her life, the constant secrecy and subterfuge and pretending to be someone else with every mission, was weighing on her quite so heavily. But now, she feels like she is struggling to breathe.

Shaking herself and dragging her gaze away from the dancefloor, Skye slips back into her role, running her hand along Haas’ arm as he pulls her through the club, projecting a heat and desire that she most definitely does not feel for the overly coiffed sleazy jackass she is currently clinging to. She’s been working on this guy for almost an hour now and she is almost in, this is not the time to let herself get distracted and blow the whole thing. And of course, just as that admonishment crosses her mind, Skye catches something out of the corner of her eye in the bright strobe flash.

Turning her head slightly, trying to keep the movement as subtle as she can, Skye’s gaze locks on Ward’s once again. He’s lurking in the shadows near the spiral staircase that provides access to Haas’ office, smirking at her as he raises his glass in response to the glower she sends his way. Skye’s blood boils at the smug arrogance he projects, but somehow she can’t seem to break their eye contact as she climbs the stairs, holding her gaze steadily on him through the bars of the handrail. She can still feel the weight of his stare, like a prickle on her neck, after they finally reach the top of the staircase and start down the short hallway to the office.

The guards at the door barely look at her, their gaze drifting towards the cleavage visible in her ridiculous leather bustier with an attitude that manages to be both lecherous and dismissive. That suits Skye just fine, slipping into the office behind Haas without the slightest hint of suspicion from his guards. The room itself is just as she expected after meeting its owner - floor to ceiling glass overlooking his kingdom below, all the furnishings sleek black leather and chrome and glass, black and white nudes that just barely edge into art rather than porn covering the walls.

Haas pushes her against the door and kisses her roughly before turning and walking over to his desk dismissively and digging through the drawers. Skye uses his distraction to slip off her high heels, leaning against the low back of the sofa as she unbuckles the vaguely bondage looking heels they put her in for the night, her ankles crying out in relief as the tight straps that criss-crossed up her calves are released. If she has to run tonight she doesn't want to do it in those shoes. She slips them over her wrist by the straps in case she needs them later and turns her attention back to the weapons dealer. 

Haas is racking up another line on the glass surface of his desk. Skye rolls her eyes as she scans the office for the likely location of the safe. _Bingo,_ she thinks, trailing her finger along the bottom of one of the portraits that sits a little further out than the rest on the wall, pulling it away to reveal the hidden door behind it. Haas turns toward her, the rush of the drugs clearly making his reaction time a little slower but his eyes widening with suspicion nonetheless as he notes her interest in the wall.

“Wha..?” He stumbles towards her with a sudden violence in his features, cut off as Skye smoothly sidesteps him and wrenches the arm he swings toward her behind his back, using the momentum to slam the side of his head into the wall.

The blow stuns him, not quite unconscious but close enough. Lurching as she struggles to hold his body weight, Skye drags him closer to the safe in the wall, pulling his eyelid up as she presses his face up against the ocular scanner. When the light on the device turns green, Skye drops him to the floor, carelessly stepping over him as she holds her phone up to the keypad on the safe door, the code hacking program she built unlocking the door in less than a 30 seconds. ( _Take that CIA tech nerds who always sneer about her hacker past_ , she thinks triumphantly.) 

Keeping one eye on Haas’ prone figure on the floor, giving him a solid kick when he appears to be about to make a move, she rummages through the safe while also waiting for Ward’s appearance. There’s the sound of a scuffle outside the door, a solid thump and a cry cut short and Skye knows she doesn’t have much time. Her fingers close around the disk just as the door opens behind her, and Skye slips it securely under the tight leather of her top as she smoothly turns to face him.

“Excuse me, but this is a private party,” she starts disapprovingly. 

Ward quirks an eyebrow at Haas, unconscious at her feet. “Well, if that's how you treat the guests, not sure I want to stay long.”

“Then we're agreed. You can leave right now and we'll both be happy.”

He smirks at her. God, she hates that cocky smirk of his. “Come on now, sunshine. I bet we can find a whole new reason to celebrate.”

Skye bristles at the nickname. “You going the hell away would be cause for much rejoicing.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of you giving me that disk and us finding a quiet bar. I believe I owe you a drink.” He has the gall to wink.

Skye scoffs, “Oh that's so cute that you think A- I'd go anywhere with you and B- that you're getting this disk. But really, 10 points to Slytherin for imagination.”

He’s been slowly walking towards her as they exchange barbs, and Skye very carefully keeps her eyes on him and not the fact that he is giving her the slightest opening towards the door. He has a gun in his hands but it’s barely aimed at her, and after all this time Skye can’t imagine him actually pulling the trigger. The number of times over the last couple of years that they've found themselves in this situation have proven that he seems to have a weak spot when it comes to her. ( _She'll ignore the fact that she might be the same with him_ ) 

All she needs is a distraction and she’s got her escape. In a moment of perfect timing, Haas begins to groan again from his spot on the floor and Ward’s eyes flick towards him. It’s only a split second before his attention is back on her but it’s all Skye needs.

Keeping low, she runs for the door. Ward’s arm comes out to grab her but she’s ready for it, grabbing hold and using her momentum to twist it up and behind his back as she ducks around him, swinging her free arm back to slam her elbow into the small of his back. She can hear him stumble behind her as he struggles to maintain his footing against the surprise attack, but she doesn’t slow down at all, skidding through the door and toward the staircase, almost tripping over the bodies of the unconscious guards by the door. She can hear Ward’s heavy boots crashing down the stairs behind her and she swings over the railing and jumps the last three feet to the ground, grateful for her foresight in taking off the heels.

Pushing her way through the crowd on the edges of the dancefloor, Skye is aware of more of Haas’ guards appearing at the sight of the two of them and their dramatic exit from his office. A couple of them are heading up the stairs for the office, but there is a small group that are is hot on Skye and Ward’s tails.

She heads for the closest door, crashing through it with a bang and into a stark hallway, hearing Ward close behind. Closer than she thought, as his foot sweeps out to hook under hers and nearly sends her sprawling. The ridiculous bondage heels are still hanging by their straps around her wrist, and she flings them over her shoulder at him, grinning when she hears his surprised grunt of shock mingled with pain as they connect with something solid. 

Spinning to face him, Skye throws a punch his way but her aim is wild and he blocks it easily with his forearm. It’s like a carefully choreographed dance, as they tumble through the hallway and slam each other into the walls, but neither of them landing any damaging blows. They've been here many times before, they know each other’s moves too well. ( _And,_ the traitorous thought appears before she can squash it, _sometimes she could almost say she enjoys the dance after all these years_ ) 

They’ve turned a corner in the corridor, but Skye still hears the heavy clank of the door from the club hitting the wall as the guards follow them. She and Ward pause for a moment, their gaze holding as they both breathe hard, his body still hovering over hers where he has her shoved against the wall. The heavy footsteps echo through the hall, and before Skye even fully realizes what has happened, Ward is yanking open the door a few feet away and shoving her through it.

Skye stumbles in what appears to be a small storage closet, barely able to catch a glimpse of a mop in the corner and some buckets lining the narrow shelves before Ward is stepping in behind her and closing the door with a quiet _snick_ , sending the tiny room into total darkness.

The space is too small for the two of them, and Skye ends up sandwiched between the wall and Ward’s body. She’d like to be able to say it’s awful, but there is a pleasant shiver that rushes through her at the feel of his hard body pressed up against her. She tries to repress the sensation, because she knows Ward will never let her hear the end of it if she lets on just how affected by him she is.

She doesn’t quite manage to cover it though, going by the soft laugh she can feel rumble through his chest where it is pushed against her back. His breath brushes against her shoulder and the heat that pools between her thighs is smothered by her still stinging pride even all this time after Malta.

He was clean shaven then, she thinks inanely as his stubble scratches against the side of her throat. 

She had been sent in undercover to investigate Ian Quinn, and his research into a theoretical new element he called Gravitonium. Her cover was herself, essentially, or her old self, her pre-CIA self: Skye no-name, the anti-authority Rising Tide hacker. 'Zach' had been working with Quinn on his security, staying in the compound as well. Their paths crossed often enough that he attracted her attention, but he was just distant enough, held himself back from her in such a way that he totally slipped under her radar. She thought he really was some private contractor and she was still green enough in the spy game that it never occurred to her to look deeper into the facade he presented. 

Her mission only lasted three weeks, but she spent the entire time in Quinn’s compound, isolated from the outside world. It made sense that any attraction she might feel, any connection that might develop, would feel magnified in that situation. There was something about the way he never smiled at anyone, but his lips would twitch whenever she’d make jokes around him. Something about the way he seemed to relax, or as much as he was capable of relaxing, around her. Something about him and the way he looked at her that made her feel like she was special.

They kissed, once. A light brush of her lips against his, just a moment of contact before she pulled back with a grin. He stared at her in wonder, his eyes half closed like he wasn’t ready for the moment to end. Like he was the prince in a fairytale and her kiss woke him up.

She was extracted the next day. She never even got a chance to say goodbye to him, never had the chance to explain, and she spent the days following her return to headquarters trying to figure out a way that she could find him again without breaking her cover. And then, completely unexpectedly, she did.

She walked into the briefing room and his face filled the screen that hung on the wall. Grant Ward, agent of Hydra. It was like a punch to the gut.

The next time she saw him face to face was in the middle of a firefight in the basement of some fetish club ( _why is it always a fetish club?_ ) a giant red ball of doom looming over them while he smirked at her as her eyes narrowed in recognition, before ducking away from her wild left hook and disappearing in the shadows. He knew who she was the entire time, she realized, and he played her. Looked for the angle and exploited her weakness. The only thing she could never figure out was why he didn’t expose her to Quinn.

Their relationship, as it were, slipped into a pattern over the years. They would inevitably encounter each other on missions, on opposite sides, but somehow it felt like neither of them ever tried that hard to kill each other. There was a kind of banter between them that felt dangerously close to flirting on occasion, but she tries her best to block that thought as best as she can. 

Because whatever she might have imagined in Malta was an illusion, the man she met there never existed and the Grant Ward she knows now is the enemy. 

He works for Hydra, a multinational terrorist organization responsible for global catastrophes. The group was formed by disillusioned former intelligence operatives from all over the world, with the purported ideology of peace through dominance and control. As far as Skye can tell though, they basically seem like every Bond villain who wanted to take over the world, with the added bonus of dealing in weapons and international intelligence to undermine global political powers.

And now he has her pressed against a wall, his body covering hers, shielding hers, from Haas’ security detail as they search the halls.

Reminding herself that he is the enemy, no matter how pleasant his body might feel, Skye turns her head to address him over her shoulder. “So what exactly is your plan here? Or is this just some creepy move to cop a feel?”

She can another laugh rumble against her back before Ward steps away from her, or as far as he can manage in the tight space. It gives her room to breathe again, and turn to face him in the darkness. Somehow it’s more disconcerting knowing that he’s in the room with her but being unable to see him than it was with his body pressing hers into the wall.

“What weapons do you have?” Ward’s voice is low, but it’s all business now, none of his earlier teasing evident.

“Tell me again, why exactly would I tell _you_ what weapons I’m carrying?” Skye hisses back at him incredulously.

She can practically hear him roll his eyes at her in the darkness. “Let’s just call this a truce until we get out of this club, ok? Neither of us has backup, and our chances are a hell of a lot better together.”

“Maybe I should just throw you to the wolves and get out while they’re distracted with that,” Skye retorts smugly, pushing down the part of her that genuinely recoils at the idea.

Ward doesn’t even bother responding to that, shifting in the darkness as they hear the footsteps approach. 

He steps closer to her, barely any distance between them at all as he repeats his question in a low whisper. “What weapons do you have, Skye?”

There is such clear exasperation in his tone and Skye considers pushing at him more to see how much he would take to explode, but the sound of voices right outside the door remind her that this really isn’t the time for games.

“I have a knife, and the earrings are supposed to be flashbangs or something,” she relents.

“What about a gun?” he asks, a little incredulously.

“I’m sorry,” Skye whispers back harshly. “Do you see anywhere in this ridiculous outfit that I could hide a gun?”

He’s smirking again. She’s sure of it.

He pauses for a second and then exhales harshly. “Ok, if I give you a weapon are you just going to shoot me in the back?”

“It’s highly possible,” Skye snarks at him. Apparently it rings just as hollow to him as it does for her because the next thing she knows he is sliding a gun into her hand. His hand hovers beside hers though, like he’s waiting for something else.

“Earrings,” he finally says, and she takes them out and drops them in his hands.

He leans back across the tiny space to crack open the door and hurl the small stun grenades out into the hallway before slamming it shut again. The two of them wait a moment as chaos erupts on the other side of the door and then she can hear Ward shifting as he arms himself.

“Open the door on my signal,” he whispers, before shifting away from her to the other side of the door. 

Skye waits until he taps her toe with his foot and she swings the door open wide. Ward goes first, a gun in each hand and he steps out firing. Skye slips out behind him, automatically keeping her back to his as she scans the hallway.

There is a slight air of surprise as the two of them charge out of the closet, and Skye feels like time slows down as she takes in her surroundings. 

There are at least twelve armed men facing them down, it can’t just be Haas’ guards but Skye is confused because there is no way they could have called in reinforcements that quickly. The deal must have been moved up, she realizes, and know she’s facing down a group of angry buyers who are here for the disk hidden in her cleavage. 

And then things speed up again rapidly as the bullets begin to fly. Ward takes at least four of them down smoothly, and Skye gets another two before one of them gets a drop on her, grabbing her by the arm and throwing her into the wall like a rag doll. He has her right hand in a vice grip as he slams it against the wall to make her drop her gun, and Skye grips the back of his neck with her left hand, tucking her chin and yanking him towards her as she slams her the top of her head into his face. The guy crumples to the floor and Skye steps over him as she assesses the situation. Eight of the twelve are on the floor with either bullet wounds or concussions, Ward is currently being tackled by three of the remaining guys as the last one heads for Skye.

She doesn’t have the gun anymore, and she doesn’t have time to drop to the floor to pick it up before he’s on her, so Skye simply charges at him, grabbing him by the arm and using his own momentum to swing him over and slam him onto the floor on his back. He’s winded from the attack but still conscious, and she is about to finish him off when his hand grips her by the ankle and he drags her to the floor. Skye scrambles as she struggles to regain her footing, feeling the sickening crunch as the heel of her foot connects solidly with his nose.

He doesn’t seem to be moving after that and Skye leans against the wall, breathing harshly as she briefly takes stock of her injuries. Her right wrist feels bruised, but not likely fractured, and her cheek is throbbing from her face bouncing off the floor. Her left bicep is burning too, and when she glances down she realizes that a bullet must have grazed her. That seems to be it though, and she glances around the hallway again for Ward’s status.

He’s on the ground, three on one and their boots are heavy as they collide with his body.

Skye feels torn. She has the disk, her attackers are distracted. She could get out of here, free and clear, right now. She has no loyalty to Ward, he’s the enemy for crying out loud. But she can’t leave him here, not like this. She would feel just as responsible for his death as she would if she were the one pulling the trigger, and as time has proven to her, that’s not something she’s capable of doing either.

She charges at the three men, spear tackling the one that lunges towards her and using him as a human shield as the other two turn away from Ward with their guns raised.

She can feel the bullets hit the body in front of her as she continues to charge full speed towards the remaining two attackers. Movement from the corner of her eye indicates Ward is staggering back to his feet, but she’s not sure how much use he’ll be as backup. From the way these guys were going at him she’s thinking he’s got to have at least two broken ribs, there is a deep cut along his cheekbone and when he pulls his hands away from his side she notices a smear of blood. She throws the now limp body of her human shield at the two men in front of her, using the moment it takes them to recover to grab her knife from the discreet holster on her thigh, slashing at the first one’s arm and then shoving him aside as she moves on to the second. He’s at least twice her size, and Skye ducks under his arm as he swings wide at her, but she misjudges the distance and his other arm comes around to wrap around her shoulders tightly, pulling her back against him roughly.

Skye’s arms are both constrained in his vice-like grip and she swings her head back desperately aiming for his nose but he dodges her blow and she skims the crown of her head across his chin instead. The way her attacker’s arms are banded across her chest is making it difficult to breathe and Skye struggles to loosen his hold enough to move her arms. At the moment they are pinned in front of her own chest at the elbow, so the knife in her hand is useless but if she could just get a little more room…  
And then a gunshot echoes through the corridor and the arms around her loosen, not enough to prevent her from being partially dragged to the floor with her now dead captor however.

Once she disentangles herself from his arms, Skye leans against the wall with her hands on her knees as she struggles to catch her breath, before glancing over at Ward who is still propped up against the wall across from her, holding his ribs and wincing. She nods her thanks, briefly, and the two of them remain in silence for a moment on either side of the hallway, bodies littering the floor between them. The men are all in varying stages of unconsciousness and blood loss, and at least three of them are dead. Her aching body is a reminder that she clings to though, as her gaze skips over the sightless eyes of the man who grabbed her. _Him or me,_ she reminds herself. 

Sliding her hand across her ribs, Skye checks that the disk is still securely tucked under her top before she straightens and begins to pick her way across the fallen men, stopping to retrieve her heels from where they lay abandoned amongst the carnage. 

“You know I’m not letting you get away with that disk,” Ward mutters from behind her, his voice strained and hoarse enough that she’s pretty sure that one of those blows must have landed on his larynx. There isn’t a lot of heat behind his words however, and he isn’t exactly moving to follow through on the implied threat, wincing as he pushes himself off the wall.

Skye just smirks at him from the other end of the hallway. “Truce til we’re out of the building, right?”

She winks and waves her fingertips at him, mimicking his mocking gesture from earlier, a true grin breaking through her smirk when he actually _laughs_ at the action. The surprise of the genuine reaction from him brings an answering chuckle from her, and if she feels flushed or a slight fluttering of butterflies she is going to blame that on the adrenaline from the fight. Anything else is unacceptable. 

“See you next time, Ward,” she calls back over her shoulder as she finally reaches the exit, his response lost in the noise of the street as she slips through the door and out into the cool night air, her feet bare and swinging her heels from her fingertips in a way that feels almost giddy. Like she just had a date, not a gunfight in a weapons dealer's basement. 

There will definitely be a next time.


End file.
